


The Vase, Or, Why You Never Play Tag in Wayne Manor

by succulents_and_fairy_lights



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, No beta we die like mne, age is wonky here because i said so, alternate universe - everyone likes each other, but here he's a bastard, damian seems like a little bitch here but i promise i dont always write him like this, every hour is duke thomas appreciation hour, gratuitous use of the word "dad", he's a complex character who deserves writing of equal complexity, i added baby terry because i have no impulse control, implied adhd dick grayson, no proofreading we also die like mne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 18:55:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20912474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/succulents_and_fairy_lights/pseuds/succulents_and_fairy_lights
Summary: "Jason Todd was bored. In Dick Grayson’s professional opinion, this was never A Good Thing."The Batboys play tag inside. As expected, things Do Not Go Well.





	The Vase, Or, Why You Never Play Tag in Wayne Manor

**Author's Note:**

> i just *clenches fist* live for that lighthearted batfam content
> 
> ages:  
Dick - 19  
Jason - 17  
Tim - 16  
Duke - 15 or 16  
Cass - 17  
Steph - 16  
Damian - 10

Dick ran in the direction of the sudden shout, his mind running into overdrive. _What happened are they okay please be okay what if he’s—_

His thoughts and legs skidded to a stop at the sudden picture of Jason, Duke and Tim standing stock still, staring down at the carpet.

“What happened,” Dick huffed.

Jason turned to him, a mournful look in his eyes, stepped aside, and gestured to the ground. There, in about 80 pieces, lay Great-Grandmother Wayne’s near-priceless porcelain vase.

“What _happened_,” the oldest boy repeated.

_ Earlier that day…_

Jason Todd was bored. In Dick Grayson’s professional opinion, this was never A Good Thing. Jason’s boredom had gotten them into an numerous…interesting situations, including but not limited to: Tim (unintentionally) snorting Scarecrow’s fear gas, a family-wide water balloon fight that ended in a mass grounding, an accidental baby acquisition, and multiple attempts to dye Damian’s hair while he was asleep. In fact, the only time Dick could remember that Jason’s boredom turned out positively was when he decided to pick up knitting. Statistically speaking, this situation was not going to end well.

“Jason, we are _not_ doing that again.” Dick sighed, setting down the pencil he’d been chewing on.

The younger boy groaned.

“But I’m sure it’ll work this time! He’s sleeping like a _rock_.”

“Jay, I am _not_ in the mood to get grounded because of one of your stupid ideas. _Again._” Tim grunted from the couch where he was curled up, drinking his fourth cup of coffee and valiantly attempting to stay awake.

Dick made a noise of agreement, pointing his pencil at Tim.

“Now, you know that I’m usually the first in line to prank Damian, but as Lyell once said, ‘the past is the key to the present,’ and if we’re going by that, Dick and I would have to clean up the mess.”

“Actually, he said ‘the present is the key to the past,’ but go off I guess.” Tim _did_ have a point, Jason conceded. “Well, does anyone else have any ideas?”

Jason looked expectantly at his brothers.

Tim waved his phone. “’m busy.”

“And I’m doing _homework_ like a responsible _adult_.”

Jason grumbled and dramatically threw himself onto the couch next to Tim. “You guys are _no_ fun.”

“Tragic.” Tim took a sip of his latte.

“Hey guys, what’s—“

“DUKE! Just the man I wanted to see!” Jason grinned as their newest sibling came into the study.

“You know what? On second thought I have to be somewhere…to do…things.” He tried to make a hasty exit, but was blocked by a quick move from Jason. _Stupid ninja training._

“Wait, I need your help in getting these _spoilsports_,” Jason threw a nasty glare at Tim and Dick. Tim stuck his tongue out. “To do something fun. With me. Because I am bored.”

“Can’t you go jump off rooftops or something? Isn’t that what you guys usually do?”

Jason sighed, “The thrill only lasts so long.” A sudden glint came to his eyes and he gasped. “I know! Why don’t we play tag!”

“What, like, in the house?” Tim didn’t look up from aimlessly scrolling on his phone.

“Yeah! Why not?”

Duke grimaced, “I can think of ma—“

He was effectively silenced by Jason’s hand thrown over his mouth. “C’mon, Duke. Live a little.”

Dick weighed the pros and cons in his head: _as long as there’s no chandelier swinging, it should be okay. _He shrugged.

“What the hey. Let’s do it. But you have to be _careful._”

_The present…_

They had not been careful. A stupid-expensive family heirloom was lying shattered on the rug.

“This is bad. This is really very not good at all.” Dick, in true oldest child form, was freaking out.

Jason nudged one of the pieces with his boot, “Well, what do we do?”

Tim squared his shoulders and walked toward the nearest supply closet, Jason in tow.

“We clean it up.”

Duke was still staring down at the broken remains in abject horror. Dick placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“Don’t worry, Bruce isn’t gonna kick you out ‘cause some vase got broken.”

“Oh, yeah, I know that. I’m not even the one who broke it. I was just thinkin’ about all that money, y’know?”

This didn’t help Dick’s internal crisis.

Tim and Jason returned, bringing the necessary cleaning supplies.

“We have to clean the rest of the house too. To cushion the blow for Bruce. Clean our rooms, do the dishes, whatever.” Everyone nodded mutely at Tim’s statement, still transfixed by the shards of porcelain.

Dick grabbed the vacuum. He knew Bruce wasn’t going to get mad and yell at them, it was only a vase after all. His reaction would be much worse. He’d be _disappointed._

“This is definitely a disaster. Heavy on the _dis._” He mumbled to himself

The rest of that afternoon, the boys worked like demons. Dick vacuumed all the upper floors, Jason cleaned their rooms, Duke gathered and washed all the laundry (_definitely not a pleasant task in this family,_ he thought), and Tim took up dish duty.

He hadn’t known it was possible for one family to generate this many dishes. On what felt like the fourth load, Damian ambled in to the kitchen, Cheshire cat grin on his face.

“So, you broke Great-Grandmother Wayne’s priceless vase.”

“Gremlin, I swear if you tell Dad or Alfred…”

“What, are you threatening me? Drake, please. There’s no way you’d beat me in any form of combat. Plus, if anything happened to me your punishment would increase tenfold,” Damian smirked and walked away, a slight spring in his step.

Tim gritted his teeth, and went back to vigorously scrubbing a casserole dish. Seriously, what 10-year-old kid says “_tenfold”_?

Dick had a newfound respect for Alfred and the cleaning service. This house was _huge_. The title of “mansion” was not given lightly, and Wayne Manor checked every box. In all his nine years of living here, Dick was sure he hadn’t seen every room. The sheer square footage of the building was ridiculous! An hour ago, his right arm had gone completely numb, and now there was an abrasive ringing in his ears due to the constant whirr of the vacuum. _Only one more floor to go, _he reassured himself. Stupid rich-person house.

“Master Richard, might I ask what you are doing?”

Dick jumped very conspicuously, stopping his task and turning to face the butler.

“Oh, hey Al! How ya doin’?” he chuckled nervously, playfully punching the older man on the shoulder. “I’m just cleanin’, you know. Jason, Tim, Duke and I decided to give you a break today!” Dick turned on his thousand-watt smile that always got him what he wanted back in the day.

Alfred hummed, unconvinced and unaffected.

“Well, I appreciate the thought. Thank you.”

He immediately set off to find what it was the boys did this time.

The mansion was _spotless. _No dust, no dirty clothes, no broken million-dollar vases lying on the ground. You could see your reflection in the dishes, and contrary to popular opinion, Jason’s room had a floor.

After scouring the internet for a simple, yet perfect recipe for dinner, the boys settled on garlic roasted chicken, roasted potatoes, and green beans. Google wasn’t very helpful on results for “what to cook when you just broke your dad’s grandma’s very expensive heirloom and you want to distract him before he notices something is wrong because he’s also batman.”

Cooking went surprisingly well, considering their lack of experience and training in that area, and the green beans came out only a _little _burnt.

The minute Bruce opened the door, he was greeted by smell of dinner, and four of his sons running toward him.

“Hi, Dad!” Tim bounded up to him, looking more cheery than Bruce had seen him in months.

“Hey, Ti—“

Dick jumped in, reaching for Bruce’s briefcase. “Need me to take that for ya?”

“No, I’ve—“

“Hiya, B-man!” Jason skipped over, wrapping Bruce in a firm hug.

“Mmpfh,” he grunted. “Hi, Jason. What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” all four chorused. 

Duke came up to him, holding out a ginger ale. “Hey, Bruce.”

“Hello, Duke,” he took the can and nodded his thanks. Silently, he thanked heaven that at least one of his sons seemed to be slightly normal.

“We just wanted to say hello after a long day of, y’know, surviving without you.” Duke shrugged.

“Hnn.” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’m going to change. I hope you’ll all survive a few more minutes out of my presence.”

Jason grimaced. “It’ll be tough, but if we stick together, I think we’ll make it.” He wrapped an arm around Tim’s shoulder and pulled him closer for emphasis.

“Uh-huh.” Bruce squinted, and walked up the stairs. _What have they done this time?_

Dinner was…surprisingly nice. Since Bruce’s own culinary repertoire consisted of toast and overcooked eggs, he was impressed by his sons’ accomplishment. Even if the beans had a bit of extra char. (“It adds _character_,” Jason insisted, grabbing a third serving of the vegetable in solidarity.)

The peculiar mood that four of the boys were in didn’t translate to the rest of the family. Cassandra and Stephanie continued to communicate privately and then stifle their giggles, Damian issued a normal amount of threats against Tim (older boy didn’t reciprocate, only causing Bruce to become more suspicious), and Terry, well he was just a baby, so Bruce knew he couldn’t have anything to do with the whole situation.

“Stephanie, would you mind to pass the salt?” Tim smiled politely at her, back perfectly straight, hands folded neatly in his lap.

Stephanie turned from her conversation with Cass and squinted at the boy, head tilted.

“Uh, sure,” she handed the shaker to him.

“Thank you very much!” he nodded, and began to passionately shake the seasoning all over his food.

Steph was still looking at Tim quizzically. “What’s got you acting like there’s a stick up your—“

“Language, Miss Brown,” Alfred broke in with a reproachful glance.

“_Nose._”

“Nothing’s wrong with him, Steph!” Dick broke in, “He’s acting just fine. Everything’s fine! Isn’t it, Timmy?”

Tim nodded vigorously, mouth full of chicken. Steph rolled her eyes.

“This freaking family, I swear,” she muttered.

Bruce turned from mashing some more potatoes for Terry.

“I was just about to ask the same thing, although in different terms. You four have been acting strangely since I got here.”

Dick, Jason, Duke, and Tim shifted uncomfortably in their seats, avoiding eye contact.

“So, what happened?”

All hell broke loose.

“Hold on, _one at a time,_” Bruce subconsciously switched on his Batman voice. Silence immediately fell over the room. “Dick, would you please tell me _what is going on_?”

“Eheh, well, you see…” From the very beginning of his life, Dick Grayson had been cursed with the inability to believably lie in stressful situations. His face would flush bright scarlet, his tongue would tie up with a severe case of cotton mouth, and his fingers would become restless, tapping or twisting anything that was close by. Now, his napkin was seeing the damage, being wrapped and unwrapped around his hand.

“So, like…you know that old vase in the upstairs hallway?”

“My grandmother’s? Yes,” Bruce prompted his son to continue.

“Yeah, funny story, so…we, uh—“

“They broke it, Father.”

“DAMIAN!” The four shouted at once, causing Terry to startle and fuss. Bruce shushed the baby, handing him a green bean from his plate. He gummed it happily and resettled.

“Is this true?”

Jason nodded gravely, “It was my idea. We were playing tag and—“

“And I broke it. We’re so sorry, Dad.” Tim interjected.

Duke, Jason, and Dick all murmured in agreement. Bruce pressed his lips together tightly, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Thank you for telling me. I would’ve appreciated upfront honesty, but this _is_ very good,” he gestured down at his plate. He clenched his jaw and looked down, shoulders beginning to shake.

“What the—Cass! Is he _crying_?” Stephanie hissed. Cass shook her head, a grin on her face.

Bruce was _laughing_. This wasn’t his harsh, biting chuckle they’d heard so much, this was a deep, real, _belly_ laugh. His kids were, needless to say, dumbfounded.

“What…B?” Dick tapped his arm lightly.

Bruce looked up, mirth written across his features.

“Do you know how much I _hated_ that vase? I’ve tried to get rid of it so many times over the years, but Alfred wouldn’t hear of it,” he stifled another chuckle after seeing the butler’s disgruntled expression. Bruce turned to the boys again. “You’ve done me a service.”

The four breathed very audible sighs of relief, tension leaving their bodies.

“You’re still grounded, though.”

“OH, COME ON.”

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me about the batfam on [tumblr](https://succulents-and-fairy-lights.tumblr.com)!!


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